


First Things First

by WrongRemedy



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-08-01
Updated: 2012-08-01
Packaged: 2017-11-11 05:25:42
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 337
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/474992
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WrongRemedy/pseuds/WrongRemedy
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Anthea wakes Mycroft up for a meeting. General morning-routine-related fluff. Established personal and working relationship.</p>
            </blockquote>





	First Things First

**Author's Note:**

> I wrote this ages ago in the middle of the night and am just now getting around to posting it. I'm not sure why it's in present tense. Oh well.
> 
> Not beta'd or britpicked, and the title is rubbish. My apologies.

It's just past 6 a.m. in Oslo and she's laying out Mycroft's suit for the day. She's already dressed and has her makeup on, though she hasnt done anything with her hair yet. 

He has a meeting with Prime Minister Stoltenberg at 8, and she will wake him up with a kiss at 6:15, then go about fixing her hair while he dresses. She enters back into the hotel suite's bedroom and sees him under the covers, snoring lightly and so vulnerable in sleep that she thinks it a shame that she'll have to wake him. He'll become far too composed once he consciously begins his day.

She crosses the room and perches on her side of the bed, running a hand over his arm and watching his face.

"Mycroft..." she says, softly, and then a bit louder when he doesn't respond.

Finally his eyes blink open and he asks, "huh?" on the barest breath. She smiles, a bit apologetic.

"Have to get up, darling. Can't keep the Prime Minister waiting."

He props himself up a bit, displacing her hand on his arm as he moves to rub his eyes.

"What time 's it?" he asks, still enough sleepy slur to his voice to bring a smile to her face.

"15 past six, sir, exactly the time you asked me to wake you."

"Oh...right," he says, looking around the room. "Why on earth did I ask you to do that, again?"

Anthea laughs, leaning over to kiss him soundly, just enough to wake him up and raise her temperature. She pulls away and stands next to the bed before he has a chance to pull her back down. 

"Get dressed, sir," she commands, re-entering the bathroom and brushing out her hair, waiting for her curling iron to heat.

She hears him grumble "told you not to call me 'sir' this early in the morning," before the covers shift and his footsteps pad across the floor. 

She smiles. It's going to be a good day.


End file.
